


Empty seats

by raisedtokeepquiet



Category: Eurovision Song Contest RPF, Festival di Sanremo RPF
Genre: First Meetings, M/M, Pining, Road Trips, a staring mess, and on his way to Berlin, fabri is a mess, in a way i guess, they're on a road and on a trip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-13
Updated: 2018-09-15
Packaged: 2019-07-11 20:19:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15979760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raisedtokeepquiet/pseuds/raisedtokeepquiet
Summary: Fabrizio is on a bus. A bus from Zürich to Berlin. It's going to be a long journey, especially for someone who doesn't speak a single word of German. Luckily, there is this one guy who speaks Italian.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back :) Nothing long, nothing big, just a short little story (okay, still longer than planned because at first I thought it'd be a one shot. I was wrong). It's at the beginning loosely based on my and Miza's experiences in Rome, and also I can vent some frustration about the German language. It's great. Thanks Miri for giving feedback, and thanks Julia for letting me pester you with random pieces of this and your help on the title! :)

Fabrizio tried to remember why he had thought this was a good idea, taking a bus. Right now he rather thought it was one of the worst ideas he had ever had, and that included stealing a car after a drunk night out with his friends. But maybe that would be the only option he had left this time too, if he didn’t actually find the bus soon. Because in five minutes, it would leave. And right now, he was not on it.

He walked on, dragging his suitcase along, trying to not get it stuck on the uneven pavement, and trying to _hurry up_ , his mind slightly wondering if this concert was going to be worth it at all, and wondering why he did not just take a plane to Berlin like a normal person would.

He had actually arrived at the station in time, after being dropped off from the ride he had managed to hitch, and he only needed to find the bus. He had made his way from Rome by joining a friend of a friend who was going to Florence by car, and then could join a friend of that friend on his journey to Genua. After that, he had tried his luck hitchhiking, which was a lot harder than he remembered from when he went to Milan for a concert when he was seventeen (right there is where he got the amazing idea from to do the same thing now, but further). He got to Turin, and then found a truck driver who got him into Switzerland. Finally, a young Italian couple had taken pity on him and dropped him off in Zürich, with the tip to get a long-distance bus, because it would just be easier. They had even helped him get a ticket, and now here he was. He had had twenty minutes to catch the bus, plenty of time. And yes, he had find a bus, right there, easily recognizable. There weren’t a lot of people, or any, really, and the bus was being cleaned. But it was early, and surely this was the right bus. No other buses of the company in sight, so this had to be it.

The minutes passed, and when there were still no other travellers, or indeed a driver, he got a bit antsy. Was this the right bus? Not knowing what else to do, he went up to the man cleaning the bus. He tried to get the man’s attention, though that was rather difficult, not speaking the language. After almost being hit by a broom that was thrown out of the bus he got noticed, and he just repeated the name of his destination a few times, ending in a question mark. The man grunted something in response and pointed down the street.

A street he was now walking on, getting more desperate with each step. Five minutes he had left, or thereabouts, because he had stopped checking the time, hoping it wouldn’t move on if he didn’t know.

He took a corner, and there it was, a proper bus station. With several buses, and any one of them might be the right one. He walked past them, comparing the unfamiliar and unpronounceable city names with his destination. Not that one. Not that one either. But yes, that one! It was still here!

A bit breathless he stepped onto the bus, in his relief almost forgetting to show the driver his ticket. Then he stumbled on, trying to get his suitcase to cooperate, looking for an empty chair, while evading any and all eye contact with the other passengers. He felt like an idiot for being that person who almost missed the bus, and was sure the others judged him too.

But there! The holy grail, two empty seats! He could have his own two seats, no one to sit next to, that was perfect. He put his suitcase in the rack above the seat, struggling to make it fit, feeling clumsy, so clumsy. Then he let himself fall into the seat. He had made it. Thank God.

His relief only lasted shortly when he noticed the bag in the mesh of the seat in front of him. A suspicion started itching in his mind, maybe these seats were not actually empty.

And no. Suddenly a woman appeared next to him in the path, a little boy in front of her. She started talking to him, loudly, angrily, pointing at the seats, pointing at her son and herself. Pointing at Fabrizio. He didn’t understand a single word, but the message was clear. These were their seats and he should leave. Yes, he got that. The only problem was that he couldn’t actually answer and also he couldn’t actually get up because the woman was blocking his way.

Finally, he made it past her with a mumbled “sorry, sorry” and an apologetic look on his face. Behind her was the bus driver, who didn’t look very amused and he only pointed to an empty seat a row or two ahead.

Fabrizio sat down, nodding to the man sitting in the seat next to him and then closed his eyes, waiting for the earth to swallow him. This really was one of the worst ideas he’d had. Spontaneously hitchhiking in Italy was fine, but what was he doing in German-speaking countries without speaking one single word of the language?

The bus driver started talking to the woman with the child, and then made his way to the front of the bus. At least, finally, they were on their way. At least now he would get where he needed to be.

Fabrizio opened his eyes again when he noticed that the man next to him had started talking. For a second he hoped that he had a phone, but no, he was talking to him. He didn’t understand a single word, and his blank look and insistent head shaking had also made that clear to the man. He didn’t give up though.

“Do you speak English?”

Fabrizio again shook his head.

“No English.”

At least he knew enough to tell him that.

The man threw him a questioning look in response, raising his eyebrows. Or rather, Fabrizio noticed, raising the skin where eyebrows should have been, but almost weren’t. His meaning was clear though. What did he then speak?

“Italiano,” Fabrizio mumbled.

The man’s face lit up.

“Oh, I also speak Italian!”

Fabrizio looked at him in awe. He spoke German, English, and Italian? How? Had he sold his soul to the devil?

“Let me introduce myself, I am Ermal. Nice to meet you!”

“I’m Fabrizio,” Fabrizio replied, shaking his offered hand.

“So, you are Italian? Where are you going?”

“To Berlin,” Fabrizio replied. “and you? Are you German?”

“No, I’m from Albania originally, but I’ve lived in Italy since I was thirteen.”

Albania? Surely he didn’t speak _four_ languages? That wasn’t possible, right? Feeling rather incompetent by comparison, Fabrizio was stuck on this realization, and didn’t reply, so Ermal continued.

“But what I was saying before, if you’re wondering what the bus driver told the woman, he said that on this bus there are no fixed seats except for one, and that is his. So if you’d wanted to you could have stayed there.”

“Oh no, I understand that she doesn’t want to sit separately from her child, that’s okay. Sorry to bother you though, you had your two free seats before I showed up.”

Ermal replied with a smile, “You’re not bothering me. It would have been a long journey on my own to Berlin, so at least you can entertain me a bit.”

His tone made clear that he was just joking, and didn’t expect anything from Fabrizio, but his smile was so contagious, Fabrizio found himself looking forward to getting to know this man better, and see that smile again. So they talked, and he found out that Ermal was on his way to Berlin to visit friends he had met there when studying abroad for a few months. He had studied languages, focusing on English, but learning German as he went to Berlin. Conversation had started, and continued to flow naturally and easily, and Fabrizio didn’t mind his travel companion. Ermal was right, it was good to have someone to talk to (and actually someone he could talk to and understand!) to have the time pass faster, and they quickly found out they had a lot in common.

The bus had made its way out of the city by now, and continued vaguely north towards Germany. One of Fabrizio reasons for taking a bus was that he would be able to see the landscape they were passing through. Only, he hadn’t taken into account that all the people on his right side had closed the curtains against the sun so he couldn’t actually see anything, and he didn’t really want to look out of the window close to him either. Because then Ermal would feel stared at, even though that wasn’t the case.

Although, it might be the case, if Fabrizio was honest, because the man was rather _nice_ to look at. With that curly _curly_ hair, the nice profile, that interesting eyebrow piercing he could only see when Ermal turned his head and looked at him... Which he was doing right now. Shit. Quickly, Fabrizio looked in front of him again, feeling a blush creep up his neck. He had been staring. And he had been caught. How embarrassing. How long would this journey take again?

Luckily, Ermal didn’t comment, and after a bit Fabrizio felt comfortable enough to try another topic of conversation. They talked some more, then Fabrizio turned to some music, while Ermal read a book. When he finished the chapter, he closed it and looked up at Fabrizio, with a soft smile. Fabrizio took out his earbuds, waiting for Ermal to say something. He didn’t, though, and Fabrizio felt himself grow a bit uncomfortable under that look. What did it mean? Did it mean anything? What was going on?

“I’m sorry to bother you, but could I please pass? I need the toilet for a bit,” Ermal said eventually, and Fabrizio quickly got up to make way for him. It didn’t really explain the staring, but maybe Ermal had just been hesitating to ask him to get up, feeling like a bother? Fabrizio knew he would feel like that, so it made sense. Right?

He stared out of the window, though only with a half eye, and was also preoccupied with watching for Ermal’s return, so he could get up before being asked. When Ermal got back however, he waved Fabrizio down and said, ‘No, just move up, I guess it’s your turn at the window now!”

Fabrizio did, and did enjoy the view from the window. Finally, he could mindlessly stare outside at the landscape passing by without it turning to mindlessly staring at a certain someone. Next to him, that certain someone was settling down for a nap, or at least to have an attempt at one. After some time, Fabrizio himself had also almost fallen prey to sleep creeping up at him, but he was jolted back to wakefulness when he felt something touch his shoulder and tickle his neck.

Carefully, he looked to the side, to see Ermal asleep against him, head on his shoulder, and curls everywhere. Fabrizio smiled down on him, and felt something stir in his chest at this mark of trust and comfort. He settled in his seat again, and tried to find a comfortable position without moving too much to also catch some sleep.

When he woke up again, it was to a cold shoulder and a crick in his neck. Something was different than before. Gone was the steady rush of driving on the highway, gone were the smooth slow curves. Instead, they were driving at a snail’s pace, and through some very sharp corners he wasn’t anticipating, and he lost his balance to fall halfway across Ermal.

“I’m so sorry,” he managed, feeling his cheeks heat up, and was still trying to get his bearings back when suddenly three quarters of the passengers got up, collected their bags and coats, and made their way of the bus.

“What’s going on? Where are we?” Surely they weren’t in Berlin yet, he hadn’t slept all the hours and hours the journey was supposed to take, right? He was convinced he hadn’t, he didn’t sleep ten hours on a bus, even he didn’t, even though his neck tried to tell him otherwise.

“It’s only Frankfurt. We’re not even close yet to Berlin. These people just have the joy of a much shorter journey than the two of us.”

“Oh, Frankfurt,” Fabrizio repeated, tongue stumbling over the unfamiliar sounds. He wasn’t sure where that was exactly, but it was not Berlin, so he should stay where he was. He didn’t really mind, while the bus wasn’t the most comfortable place to be in the world, it had some sense of seclusion, where space and time didn’t matter. He was in this bubble, somehow moving across Europe, towards his destination, but that wasn’t important now, it was the journey. That was a nice change from planes, where everything was so hasty and immediate. It made you lose all appreciation and wonder of travelling. Planes now easily covered distances that most people even a hundred years ago could only dream of, and it was too easily taken for granted.

That’s what he told himself, but he couldn’t deny that the man sitting next to him also offered some interest. Without him, this whole journey would have been a lot more boring and less… well, less wonderful. Without him, Fabrizio would be in his own very tiny bubble, as opposed to the larger bubble of the bus and fellow passengers, a tiny bubble confined by his lack of knowledge of German, and he knew it would have been a lonely one. No matter the beauty and novelty of the landscape outside, it would have been a lonely one.

Fabrizio looked up a bit alarmed when Ermal started gathering his stuff.

“Where are you going? You’re not going to get off here too, are you?” He wished it didn’t sound as panicked as he was feeling. He had just been thinking about how the other man’s presence made this journey better, and now he was leaving?

“I thought I’d go sit somewhere else… It’s so empty now. You wanted two seats for yourself, didn’t you?”

Fabrizio blinked. Well yes, he had wanted that, but that was before he actually talked to Ermal and found out how well they clicked.

“Oh no, but it’s perfectly fine with me if you want to stay here! I don’t mind, I really don’t,” he said, his mind working hard to find a reason, any reason at all to convince Ermal. But what reason had he, besides “I surprisingly like your company, please stay”?

“Don’t you need that entertainment anymore?” he finished, a bit lamely, even though he was trying to make it a joke. Somehow it was too important, too serious, and his tone fell flat.

Ermal looked at him, a smile slowly breaking out on his face.

“Well, yes, I do, the journey is a long one. You really don’t mind?”

“No, no, not at all, come, sit down!”

Ermal did, and Fabrizio felt surprisingly relieved by that. He didn’t understand completely why, and didn’t dwell on the feeling too much, but he was glad that Ermal apparently liked the company of this sad, lost Italian enough to give up the chance to sprawl out across seats.

As the bus made its way out of the city again, gathering speed again, Fabrizio and Ermal fell back into conversation, somehow still finding topics they hadn’t covered before, somehow still finding new things to talk about, new stories to share.

And that was rather good, because their long journey had just gotten even longer, as they’d hit a traffic jam. Inch by inch, the bus went forward. They weren’t completely stuck, they could cover a little distance each time, and somehow that was worse. If they were really stuck they could go maybe for a walk, stretch their legs a bit, but now they could just sit there and stare and think how _walking_ would get them to Berlin quicker than this stupid bus.

Fabrizio could hear the people around him mumble and check their watches, as if that would make the cars in front of them disappear. He just settled in his seat and waited. He had time, the concert wasn’t for days yet, and here at least he had someone who could understand him. Because really, his experience in Zürich and the later unexpected relief to find someone who spoke Italian had made clear to him how _nice_ that was. He had thought he would be fine, but maybe he had underestimated how lonely it could become. So if he was honest, he didn’t really mind that Berlin was a bit more time away. He looked over at Ermal, wondering what he was thinking about this.

“Is this going to make you late for an appointment?”

“No, not really. I’m just meeting a friend at who’s place I’ll be staying, and I can text him later when he can expect me. It will be fine. You?”

“Oh, no, no one waiting for me, and the concert I’m going to is still days away.”

“So you’re really going all the way to Berlin to go to a concert on your own?”

Fabrizio grimaced, he could have expected this question, he had gotten it so many times before.

“Yes. I just really wanted to see this band live, and they didn’t have any concerts in Italy. And I’ve got a holiday, so why not?”

“But alone, all that way, that’s brave.”

“Brave is what you call it, crazy is what many others call it. I didn’t plan on going alone, I did buy two tickets, but none of my friends wanted to come, or had time to. So yeah, here I am, on my own.”

“Do you have anything planned for your time in Berlin, besides the concert?”

“No, I haven’t. I realize now how unprepared I actually am,” Fabrizio admitted, thoughts running over his pretty much spur of the moment decision, the non-existent thought process behind it. “You know the city, don’t you? Do you have any recommendations?”

Ermal did, and Fabrizio listened fascinatedly, trying to remember all the unfamiliar names and descriptions of landmarks. And okay, maybe it was not only the landmarks that were fascinating, but rather the way he was told about them. Ermal suddenly had a light in his eye that wasn’t there before, when he gestured widely and spoke so enthusiastically about the highlights of the city and spiralled into the wildest stories of his time as a student. Fabrizio could only listen, captivated, a tiny part of his mind that was still capable of rational thinking telling him that he should be careful. Careful, because he was quickly feeling himself get caught up in more than just admiring this man’s curls and nice face. And really, he shouldn’t. Not like this. So he tried to tell himself that it, of course, _of course_ , was nothing more than just a side effect of spending so much time together, of this man being the only one he could talk to. Nothing more. He was sure of that. _Sure_. Completely certain.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The bus journey continues, eventful as it is. Will Fabrizio ever make it to Berlin?

During their conversation, traffic had moved up a bit more, and now they were finally going faster than just walking speed. Slowly, it seemed that the traffic jam had disappeared, and Fabrizio expected that they would gather speed and now swiftly go on across Germany’s highways. But they didn’t. They had barely made it a few hundred meters, it seemed, or the bus slowed down again, and finally made its way to a road side rest stop.

The bus driver mumbled something into the microphone, and Fabrizio looked at Ermal, waiting for an explanation, but Ermal looked as confused as he did.

“He just said it was a stop, but nothing about why or how long.”

But they didn’t necessarily need that information, grateful for a chance, any chance to stretch their legs a bit, move around, get some fresh air after that long sit in the bus, especially with the traffic jam.

Ermal and Fabrizio stood together, a bit on the side, keeping an eye on the other passengers and, most importantly, the bus and its driver. If there was something they did _not_ need, it was the bus driving off without them. It didn’t seem that it was going to do that any time soon though, as the bus driver was now on his phone, pacing in front of the bus, gesturing widely. Fabrizio tried to piece together what he was saying from his hand movements, but rather failed. Ermal was staring too, curious as well, and Fabrizio nudged him.

“Shall we get a bit closer, just to, you know, be around the bus before it leaves, absolutely not to eavesdrop or anything?”

Ermal shot him a quick smile, and then grabbed Fabrizio’s arm to make a bee-line over to get in earshot of the driver. It was clear, even to Fabrizio, that something was rather wrong. Curiously he looked up at Ermal, waiting for him to tell him what was going on. Ermal’s expression changed from amusement to something serious, something like worry.

“There’s something with the bus… He’s saying it’s not safe to drive on? It’s overheated from all the accelerating and breaking in the traffic jam…”

Fabrizio looked on, now a bit worried too. Having the journey take longer was one thing, but getting stuck here, in what frankly looked like the middle of nowhere, while it was already evening, that was not something he was going to be too happy about. And neither were the other passengers, who had also noticed something was going on. To be fair, neither was the bus driver, who was still yelling into his phone, while trying to evade all the questions that were thrown at him by the passengers.

 “He’s saying he can’t drive another mile in this, he is asking for another bus to be brought here. Doesn’t seem to be a possibility, so now he’s yelling about that.”

The yelling continued for a bit, but now Ermal couldn’t hear enough of what was said to know what was going on. By now, all passengers had gathered around the driver, trying to find out what was wrong and how it would be solved.

Eventually, the bus driver put his phone away, sighed deeply, shot an offended look at the bus, and then addressed the passengers.

“He can’t get a new bus now, so we can’t go on tonight,” Ermal translated.

“He did order some taxis, and we will spend the night in some hotel nearby on their costs. And then there will be another bus tomorrow morning.”

At hearing this, many of the passengers descended on the bus driver to get more information, to find out when they would arrive, to complain they had plans, they did not have time for this delay, was there anything else that could be done? – and Fabrizio and Ermal made their way to the outside of the group. Neither of them was too bothered by the delay, and at least the poor driver had done what he could.

Eventually the taxis arrived, and without speaking, Fabrizio and Ermal decided to let all the complaining and upset passengers go first, they preferred not to be caught in that atmosphere, thanks.

So finally, they made it to the hotel, sharing the taxi with a teenage couple that was disgustingly in love and even to Fabrizio it was clear how much they were looking forward to sharing a hotel room on the bus company’s costs. He caught Ermal’s gaze and Ermal rolled his eyes. Fabrizio just grinned back at him, feeling no pity whatsoever with Ermal who was stuck in the back of the car next to the couple.

In the hotel lobby there was a very flustered manager, who kept repeating a few sentences to some employees standing beside him, and a young woman who was checking things on a computer.

Fabrizio and Ermal joined the short queue, and Fabrizio was grateful that the other man was staying by his side like this, unasked even, but oh so welcome. He shuddered a bit to think how this would have gone without Ermal’s help translating, he wouldn’t have had a single clue what was going on at all. The bus, the delay, the break-down, the hotel…

He was deep in thought as they shuffled forward, when it was their turn, trusting Ermal would get him a bed to sleep in too. The discussion Ermal had with the hotel employee seemed longer than necessary, but then, with this language, everything seemed longer than necessary. Finally, their names had been taken, their identities registered, and Ermal was handed a key. Making space for the next people, he turned to Fabrizio.

“Okay, so we have a room.”

“That’s good, right?”

“Yes. The only thing, it’s a double, they didn’t have any other rooms left than with a double bed. So we have to share. I really asked them for something else, but they didn’t have anything available.”

Oh. Fabrizio’s mind briefly blanked, and then started up again. That was no problem. He could share a room with Ermal, of course he could. And the bed, well, it probably had two single mattresses, right, and they could take one mattress and put it on the ground to prevent any awkwardness there. It would be fine.

He followed Ermal up some stairs  and down a corridor until they got to their room. Ermal opened it, and they looked in. Small but perfectly adequate bathroom to the left, complete with towels and soap. Then the room with the double bed, a TV, a desk, and large windows overlooking the hotel's garden at the back.

It looked perfect. Much more comfortable than the bus, definitely so. Yes, this would work.

Except –

Fabrizio’s stomach fell as his gaze fell on the bed again. A double bed with a double mattress. Nothing to put on the floor. Only a double bed. To share. With Ermal.

He had shared rooms before with friends, of course he had. He had shared beds before with friends, of course he had. And wasn't that what Ermal was? A friend? Maybe it was a bit early to call him that, but surely he was more than a mere acquaintance. So friend. He had shared a room and a bed before with a friend, so he could do it now.

It seemed that Ermal had taken the room in stride and didn’t notice Fabrizio’s inner turmoil. He rummaged through his bag and got out a pair of pyjamas and some toiletries.

“Is it okay if I shower first?” Ermal asked, finally looking at Fabrizio.

It took him a few seconds to come back to the present, but he nodded quickly, “Yes, yes, sure, that’s no problem.”

Fabrizio tried to busy himself while Ermal was in the bathroom, but really, he had nothing to do but wait. Wait and think. Wait and overthink.

So that’s what he did, sitting on the far edge of the bed, though sitting was a large word for it. Caught up in worries and ideas and loops and strange hopes and some conflicted, confusing feelings, he waited and thought. He didn’t notice the water being shut off. He didn’t notice the bathroom door opening. He didn’t notice the silence that followed.

“The bathroom is all yours,” he heard Ermal say, finally, and Fabrizio looked up. And looked.

“Well, except for the hair dryer, I’ll be needing that,” Ermal continued, but it was rather lost on Fabrizio who was now actively _staring_ , captivated by that skin, so much skin, right there in front of him, only broken by the towel Ermal had wrapped around his waist. So much skin, golden from the summer sun, with the occasional droplet of water that had fallen from his hair. Once more he was staring, and once more Ermal surely caught him doing so. Fabrizio swallowed heavily and quickly made his way to the bathroom, not trusting his voice to reply, and he really wanted to get away as quickly as possible. After undressing and getting the temperature of the water just right, he leaned his head against the wall of the shower cabin, trying to calm himself down a bit.

Seeing Ermal like that, it did things to him. God, it shouldn’t, but it did. For one moment he entertained the thought of doing something about it, surely the running water and the rush of the hair dryer in the room would mask any sounds he might make...

But no. No. He shouldn’t do that. It was wrong on so many levels, not to mention how awkward it would make every following minute he would spend in Ermal’s company. So no. He wouldn’t. Resolutely, he turned the temperature to cold, as cold as it could go, and he stood there shivering, cursing himself, but at least it did the job.

Eventually, he got out of the shower. He had to. And he wanted nothing more than to get into his pyjamas, which he was going to bother with, for once, because this whole sharing a room thing was already much more complicated than he had anticipated. So he wanted to get into his pyjamas, get into the bed, ignore Ermal, and sleep.

But he couldn’t. He couldn’t, because in his haste to get away from Ermal clad in nothing more than a towel, he had completely forgotten to bring his pyjamas with him to the bathroom. So now he was left with two options. One, get back into the clothes he had been travelling in all day, and then either change in the room like it was normal, or go back to the bathroom to change. He didn’t really like either of those, because the first would be awkward in itself, but the second would also make things awkward. Then, the other option was to copy Ermal, wrap his towel around his waist and then change. The changing would be easier, yes, but he would be clad in nothing more than a towel.

Still, he didn’t feel like putting his sweaty, wrinkled clothes back on, so the towel it was. He tried to play it cool, like it was nothing out of the ordinary, to walk around a room he shared with a stranger, with nothing more than a fluffy white piece of fabric around him. A big piece of fabric, but only one single piece of fabric nonetheless. But then, Ermal had done so, too, and if he could manage, so could Fabrizio. Right? Right.

And it turned out surprisingly easy. Ermal had already made it to the bed, and was reading his book in the light of his bedside table lamp. Apparently, he was engrossed in it, and only looked up when Fabrizio shuffled himself under the covers. Not that he minded, the last thing he needed was any eye contact while he was getting dressed or getting into the bed.

“Is it okay if I finish the chapter before turning out the light?” Ermal asked, shaking his book a bit to make his meaning clearer, even though it was.

“Sure, sure, the light doesn’t bother me, it’s fine with me if you want to finish the whole book,” Fabrizio replied, and it managed to tease a smile to Ermal’s lips. Good. They had managed to make this not awkward, and that was really great. No need to take the blankets and sleep on the floor, then. It would be fine.

“Oh, no that won’t happen, even I am tired after today. Sleep well, Fabrizio,” Ermal replied.

“Sleep well,” Fabrizio managed to echo, trying not to linger on how his name had sounded just there. He turned on his side, his back to Ermal, and closed his eyes. Surprisingly quickly, he fell asleep, and surprisingly well he slept. Fabrizio usually didn’t have trouble falling asleep, but this was a rather remarkable situation.

Early, too early for any sensible human being, Fabrizio woke up. Ermal was still asleep. They had seemed to have weathered the night well, still more or less on their own side of the bed, with their own half of the blanket. Fabrizio looked at the man sleeping next to him, his face was illuminated by the weak early sunlight streaming in through the uncovered window. The contrast between his skin and his dark curls was even more striking than in full daylight. Briefly, Fabrizio wondered how it would feel to run his fingers through that hair, and softly over that skin, the softness at the temples, the slight stubble across his cheeks. He wondered about those things briefly, and then shook the thoughts out of his head. They were virtually strangers and yet sleeping in each other’s company, wasn’t that a sign of trust? He should not break that trust by imagining things like this.

Ermal asleep was a contradiction. Sleep had painted an expression on his face of innocence and he looked somehow fragile and so so young. It contrasted wildly with how he spread his long limbs in every direction, taking up as much space as he could manage. Fabrizio would have expected a different expression in this case, more confident and sure, or different behaviour with the expression he was wearing now, more fitting would be Ermal curled in on himself, quiet and still.

Fabrizio wasn’t sure why he kept analysing this, staring, a bit creepily, he knew that. He should stop it, why didn’t he just follow Ermal’s example and sleep, sleep a bit more while he could in so much more comfortable circumstances than on that bus. But his thoughts and eyes kept coming back to the sleeping form beside him, trying to solve this puzzle.

His thoughts flashed back to what he had been thinking, _imagining_ when Ermal had come out of the shower the evening before, and Fabrizio cringed slightly. He was aware that this was not just attraction to a handsome man, that this was more than just a casual interest, and it wasn’t good. He tried to recall when it had happened, but nothing came to mind. Of course, he had only known Ermal for a few hours. Not even a day, a few hours was all they shared. And admittedly, it had been an intense few hours but it did not justify any of his feelings. He knew, in this short, short time he was so far gone. Too far gone. He didn’t know how he could change it now. And the worst thing was, he _liked_ it. He liked this sense of possibility swirling through the air, no matter how one sided this was, he liked this feeling of weightlessness he had when his gaze locked with Ermal’s or when their arms brushed.

Of course, it would lead nowhere, of course this was nothing more than a fleeting fancy, something that was sudden and surprisingly deep, but it would pass just as quickly as it had arrived. Of course it would. There was no need to dwell on it, no need to think of it, or God forbid, to speak of it. And it was fine if later he would imagine what it could have been, what they could have done, but he shouldn’t sink so low as to do it right here in this room, in this bed. That would be like breaking that implicit, fragile trust between them.

As he was still staring, suddenly the brown eyes opened. Ermal had awoken and once more Fabrizio had been caught staring. He watched, unable to look away, unable to pretend he hadn’t been doing so, and for a brief moment, a few seconds at most, Ermal’s eyes showed bewilderment, confusion. Then realization took over and after a long blink, Ermal reopened his eyes and looked steadily back at Fabrizio.

“Good morning,” he said, voice cracking slightly from a night of disuse.

“Good morning, Ermal,” Fabrizio replied, turning away to finally _stop staring_ at Ermal, and stared up at the ceiling instead.

“What time is it?”

“Not yet seven, I think. We can sleep some more before breakfast, if you want to. The bus was supposed to be ready at ten, right?”

“That’s what they said yesterday, yes. Won’t hurt to be a bit earlier to make sure we know what the plan is. And I can’t sleep anymore anyway,” Ermal said, sitting up a bit in the pillows to make the transition to being fully awake _and_ functional a little easier.

Fabrizio decided that he might as well get up, get dressed, brush his teeth. There was no way he would sleep again now, either. When he emerged from the bathroom again, Ermal had also dressed, and was repacking his bag. Fabrizio quickly did the same with his suitcase, making sure everything fit, and when Ermal was ready they went down for breakfast, taking their stuff with them to make sure they’d catch that bus if anything unexpected would happen.

Surprisingly nothing unexpected happened. The bus left at ten o’clock exactly, and the four hours left to get to Berlin passed without accidents, traffic jams, or anything else to slow down their journey.

So that led to Fabrizio and Ermal, standing on a bus station in what was presumably Berlin, though it might have been any station anywhere. It didn’t look particularly inviting, exciting, or foreign.

“Ermal, thank you so much for translating everything, I’m really happy you were there and willing to help me!”

“I didn’t mind at all, glad I could help. Thank you for the entertainment on this journey that ended up rather longer than expected. Will you be okay from here?” Ermal asked Fabrizio, fiddling with his bag.

“Oh, yes, I’ll look for a hotel, and then go sightseeing the coming days. Don’t worry about me!”

“Okay, great. Well then, it was really nice to meet you!”

“You too!”

Ermal looked ready to walk of in search of a bus to take him to where his friend was. And in that last minute, Fabrizio decided to take a chance. What did he have to lose? Nothing. Nothing at all. He would never see Ermal again so he could try. There was no need, but there still was _possibility_ and so he decided to allow himself to think of it, and yes, to speak of it.

“Look, Ermal, I really enjoyed meeting you, you know, and spending time with you, and I… Well, you are… We… – I mean, I know you’re busy, and I know you’re with friends, and I know we have only just met, but here.”

Fabrizio took his spare concert ticket out of his bag, that way he didn’t have to look at Ermal, who surely would look shocked, uninterested, in the worst case disgusted, Fabrizio knew what a chance he was taking here, but he had nothing to lose. Except his dignity. And he tried to tell himself he didn’t care about that. He carefully avoided looking at Ermal’s face and continued, “I would love to see you again and maybe, you know, make it something _more_ than just a coincidental meeting on a bus.”

Of course he stumbled over his words here, of course he messed it up now, trying to put his meaning into the word ‘more’, only to have it ending up sounding so suggestive, so dirty, so _wrong_ , and this was the point where his nerves failed him. Completely.

He managed a very, very unimpressive “Yes. Goodbye” as he shoved the ticket at Ermal. He wasn’t even sure if the other man took it before he turned around and fled (without a final look, he cursed himself later, without a final look, and he had so planned a final look to commit that face and that hair to memory), running away while trying to look casual, fighting with his suitcase that bumped every which way over the uneven pavement, hoping he looked at least a bit smooth as he did so, knowing full well he looked like the idiot he had just proven himself to be.

He wasn’t sure where he was going, he had no clue at all, he just knew he needed to find a place to sleep. Some hotel, some bed and breakfast, a bed to lie on so sleep could take his mind off those terrible last minutes with Ermal.

Nothing to lose, he repeated stubbornly, he had had nothing to lose, so it was good that he tried. Or so he tried to convince himself. Yes, it was good that he tried, but in doing so he had managed to mess it up so spectacularly that it would have been better for everyone involved if he hadn’t. He had made a fool of himself, and his mind would not let him forget it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to leave it here like this... There will be one more chapter though (eventually). Thanks to everyone who has read this, left kudos or commented <3\. And thanks to all my personal Ermals who help me cope with German things :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fabrizio finally made it to Berlin, now he can do some sightseeing, and there is also the concert, of course. Hopefully that will be enough to cheer him up a bit.

The bus had dropped them of in what seemed rather a residential area, and Fabrizio wondered how far he was from the city centre, how far away from all those highlights Ermal had mentioned. However, mostly he didn’t care too much right now, because it suddenly hit him how tired he was, and he just needed some space for himself. And sleep. And not think. But one downside of the residential area was that there was rather a lack of hotels available. So he walked around, trying to find something, anything. He didn’t see any signs saying ‘hotel’, so he moved on to that second option. The bed and breakfast. That was shortened to B&B, right?

He sure hoped it was, because then, right there, on the corner of the street, he had found one. Of course, it might just be some German abbreviation, meaning something else entirely. “Watch out for the dog”, “No door-to-door sellers”, or maybe it was just the sign of some company. Still, he was tired, he was hungry, he was in a bad mood (and trying to ignore the exact reason for that. He was tired and hungry, that was enough), so he was going to take this chance.

And the chance worked out. The door had been answered by an elderly lady, who smiled kindly up at him. He was a bit surprised how easy it had been to let the woman know what he wanted, with the three words of broken English he spoke and a lot of gesturing. But then, he supposed, it shouldn’t be too hard to walk into a bed and breakfast and make clear that want you wanted was a bed, and maybe some breakfast, especially when you looked like shit from spending hours on a bus and dragging a suitcase behind you.

Still, he had managed and now he had a room and it was surprisingly comfortable, and he had had something to eat, some sandwiches. Now he had changed his clothes, and even though it was the middle of the afternoon, he lay down in his bed and slept. His back was so thankful to him for that after the hours in the bus, and Fabrizio didn’t want to imagine how he’d feel if they’d never spent that night in the hotel. But also his mind was thankful to him, because at least sleeping meant that it could stop going over thoughts and memories and vain hopes concerning a certain someone.

He awoke the next morning. Early, but not as early as you would expect from going to sleep at four in the afternoon the previous day. He took a quick shower, got dressed, and then made his way downstairs a bit awkwardly. Yesterday, he thought he’d gotten a quick explanation on how breakfast worked, but he hadn’t really remembered. Or understood, in the first place.

However, it didn’t seem to be an issue, his host was already awake, and busy in the kitchen. As soon as she noticed him, she smiled and gestured for him to sit down at the table, and a bit later he was presented with a plate full of food.

“ _Danke_ ,” he said, proud that he had at least managed to learn that, and had had the foresight to ask Ermal just some basic phrases in German. Apparently, that was enough to convince this nice lady that he actually was fluent in German, and she happily chattered about – well, about something, Fabrizio had no idea what. Might have been the weather, her grandchildren, or the state of world politics. It didn’t matter that he didn’t reply, and just ate his food. She topped up his plate again, and his coffee, and then sat down at the table too, with a much more modestly filled plate.

When breakfast was over, she got up, took the plates away, gestured to Fabrizio to stay seated, and wandered off to somewhere, while Fabrizio waited, a bit lost. A lot lost, actually. Soon enough, she was back, with a map and a pen. She sat down next to Fabrizio, laid out the map on the table and first circled a place on the map.

“Here,” she said, pointing at the floor. Okay, so that was where he was. Yes, he got this. Then she pointed to a train station not too far away, and followed the train tracks towards the city centre. Then she started circling some places he should apparently visit, naming each one. In no time, Fabrizio was lost again, though he did catch some names that sounded rather familiar from when Ermal had talked about them.

Apparently she was done, because she quickly folded the map (rather impressively quickly, Fabrizio was no stranger to road maps, but the folding part always left him mystified), and handed it to Fabrizio with a smile. He took it, and resolved to do some sightseeing. He had two days left, and he would make the most of this. It was a holiday, after all. Surely it would cheer him up a bit. Hopefully it would cheer him up a lot.

Taking the train was an adventure in itself, but he managed to get a ticket by going up to the information desk and pointing at where he wanted to go. The employee didn’t seem too thrilled about this terribly incompetent tourist, but helped him out in the end.

He had decided to make his first goal the Siegessäule. His host had circled it on the map, and Ermal had told him he could climb it and have a nice view from the top. Fabrizio followed the big roads to the crossing with the tower in the middle. He was here. Or, almost here, because where to cross the road? He was used to Italian traffic, Roman traffic, which was arguably even a bit worse, but this? How would he ever make it to the other side alive? He tried once more, but as soon as one foot touched the asphalt all cars started honking at him. Okay. No. That was not going to work. Then he wasn’t going to go on the thing, then he wasn’t going to look at the city. Stupid city it was anyway. What was he doing here again?

Anyway. He turned his back to the Siegessäule and followed the path along the busy road through the park towards the Brandenburger Tor. Another highlight, and much more accessible than the column had been. Here, he could cross the street with some traffic lights and then it was just a square. Then he went north to see the Reichstag building with its glass dome. This would be his chance to get a view of the city, because Ermal had said that the dome also was a nice viewpoint.

It wasn’t meant to be, though. Fabrizio would not get to see Berlin from higher up than his one meter and eighty centimetres. Because he had barely set one foot into the building before some official looking people came up to him, demanded something (what, though, what?) and when Fabrizio couldn’t answer, or show a ticket, or give a reservation number, they basically threw him out of the building.

What was this stupid city? Why was he here, when nothing, nothing at all, seemed to work as he wanted it to? He was starting to doubt whether even the concert would be worth it at all. So he wandered the streets, now going south, towards some other circles on his map, though he had little hope of nice experiences after what he’d seen before.

The next stop was the Holocaust Memorial, and Fabrizio spent some time wandering the monument, in awe by it all. It didn’t help his mood, of course it didn’t, somehow the concrete all around him made him feel trapped, the atmosphere heavy and dark, pushing on him. Alone, he walked on as the blocks of concrete grew taller and taller, and he contemplated the _why_ of it. Why was it that humanity was driven to the darkest deeds? Why couldn’t they just live together in peace? Why was there always the need to blame something, someone?

When he had made it out on the other side, he didn’t feel like any more sightseeing. Not now, not with his mind like this. So he looked around for a bench, found one, and sat down with a heavy sigh. At first he just sat there, trying to order the thoughts in his mind, trying to find back some peace. When he had managed, at least a little, he started looking around, observing the people around him. A lot of tourists, naturally. Some German business people, walking fast and talking into phones. A little kid on a bike falling over, crying. A woman with a dog that had absolutely no interest in continuing their walk, not when there were so many interesting smells everywhere. A man with dark, fluffy, curly hair.

A man with dark, fluffy, curly hair?

Surely not.

Fabrizio got up abruptly, and walked into the direction he had seen the man disappear. In the distance he caught another flash of the curls, and his heart started beating loudly.

It wasn’t, it wouldn’t be, it couldn’t be Ermal, he tried to tell himself, tried to make himself belief and calm down. But what if it was? What if they had another chance meeting? What if this was _meant to be_?

Fabrizio rushed on through the street, bumping into people who told him decidedly unfriendly things, though he did not know what exactly, trying to overcome the distance. Then, at a traffic light, he had his chance. There he was. Fabrizio went up, pushed through the people, now he was next to the man, he took a deep breath, ready to call out that name, that name that had been running through his thoughts more than he would ever want to admit.

Right when he let that first vowel cross his lips, the man turned his face towards him. And his face was not what Fabrizio expected. The man was not who Fabrizio expected. No kind brown eyes. No eyebrow piercing. No soft smile waiting for him. Hell, this man even had proper eyebrows.

It was not Ermal.

The light was green now. Mindlessly, Fabrizio walked on with the crowd of people he now found himself in. Mindlessly, because he could not allow himself to think. He could not allow himself to _feel_. If he did, he would surely collapse in disappointment, disappointment, but also self-loathing. How could he have let himself go as to believe he would meet Ermal in this city of millions, just by chance? How could he have let himself go to _want_ it, to _need_ it so badly, to see Ermal again? He had had his chance, he blew it, and now he should live with the consequences. Besides, how long had the known the man? A few hours? A day? It was pathetic, it truly was.

Finally free from the crowd, he could look around him a bit, and figure out where he was. Consulting the map and trying to find the unpronounceable street names, he found himself quite close to another circle on the map. He’d been done with sightseeing, yes, but now he needed something, anything to take his mind of this person all his thoughts kept coming back to.

He now was at Checkpoint Charlie. Fabrizio checked it out as he walked past, not wanting to pause in the crowds of tourists. While he appreciated the history of it, this rather looked like a tourist attraction, bringing to mind the fake gladiators at the colosseum. _Someone’s_ voice rang through his mind, reminding him that close by was an interesting exhibition on the Berlin Wall, and definitely worth a visit.

Fabrizio checked his watch, found he still had seas of time (too much time) and he might as well visit it. If he could, because he hadn’t had too much luck _visiting_ anything in this city. Surprisingly, he managed to buy a ticket, and yes, as Er- _someone_ had told him, it was interesting. Fabrizio was glad he had seen the exhibition. The pictures spoke for themselves, and the documentary was impressive as well. And it had made the time pass. And it had made the good weather pass, apparently, he noticed as he stepped out of the building, rain now coming down in sheets.

He sighed, and decided to just brave the weather. What else to do? The day had been a difficult one from the start (though breakfast had been great, he couldn’t complain about that). He should just make his way back to the bed and breakfast, back to a hot shower and a soft bed.

He found the nearest train station, again managed to annoy an employee enough to get a ticket, and went back. On his walk from the train station to the bed and breakfast, the rain was still pouring down, and as soon as she heard him come in, his host rushed to the hallway, muttering things, motioning him to keep still, running upstairs, coming back down again with a bunch of towels which she wrapped around Fabrizio.

She then steered him towards the bathroom, and Fabrizio dutifully took the shower he craved anyway. When he emerged again, he found her sitting at the kitchen table, and when she saw him, she pointed at a chair and then put a steaming mug of tea in front of him and a plate with a slice of cake big enough to feed a family.

She kept a one-sided conversation going, though she managed somehow to make Fabrizio feel included in it. That was quite a talent, especially as he didn’t say a word. Eventually though, the questions and silences invited him to contribute to the ‘conversation’ and she didn’t blink an eye at his Italian, even though she surely understood him as well as he did her.

The next day, he had another amazing breakfast (it was almost enough to make this whole thing worth it. Almost), and then headed back to the city centre to do more sightseeing. Only, he wasn’t sure what to see anymore. Of course, there was enough to do, to see, to visit, but he didn’t feel like it, not after the day he’d had yesterday.

So he wandered the busy shopping streets, not going anywhere in particular. To be honest, his mood wasn’t much better than the day before, and the loneliness was getting to him. He wasn’t used to this, even when he spent time on his own, at least he could _talk_ to people. He could communicate. Make a joke here, greet someone in passing there. Now, nothing. He felt a bit like a ghost wandering the streets of some unknown city.

A few times, his eye was caught by another dark head of curls, and each time his heart sped up, though each time it was just a random guy who didn’t even _look_ like Ermal. Fabrizio resolutely ignored how that made him feel, all the ways it made him feel.

What made his day slightly better, was that he got some nice food in a restaurant. He managed to completely butcher the names of the dishes he tried, regardless of the language of the menu, be it German or English or anything else, so he ended up with something entirely different than he had been aiming for. Luckily he was not a fussy eater, and the food was good anyway.

After his lunch, he wandered around the streets some more, until he finally, completely by chance (or luck, maybe he finally had some luck) stumbled upon the Hard Rock Café. Now that was a place where he could spend some hours. And he did. And he enjoyed himself, surprisingly enough.

In the early evening, he went back to the bed and breakfast. Slowly, he felt some excitement trickle back into his veins, so slowly. Tomorrow was the day this had all been for. In exactly twenty-four hours, the concert would start and he would be there. It would be worth it.

He slept in, the next day, trying to make the day a bit shorter, so there would be less time to watch slowly creep by on the clock. He didn’t go out again, no more sightseeing, he had seen enough of Berlin. Instead, he helped his host around the house, fixing some cabinets, changing a lamp on a high ceiling, he completed an assortment of different tasks. Finally, finally, it was time to leave for the concert. He would be early, yes, but surely he wouldn’t be the only one. And it was much better than waiting here at the bed and breakfast.

Fabrizio slowly stepped forward in the queue of people trying to get inside the venue. He showed his ticket to the security and followed the signs that led him to where his seat was. Being here, finally it seemed real to him in a way that it hadn’t before. He had made this whole journey, hitchhiking and by bus, to be here, for this evening. People had told him he was crazy, but here he was, about to have the best night of his life. Yes, going to this concert in Berlin has been a spontaneous decision, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t been thinking of seeing this band live, imagining how it would be, how amazing and incredible. He would not let the empty seat next to him put a damper on that excitement. He would not. He had never expected there to be anything else than an empty seat next to him from the moment his friends all bailed out on him ( _almost never, just for a short, short second_ ) a small voice in the back of his mind whispered, a small voice that he _ignored_ ). So he focused his attention on the stage, the lights, the music, the atmosphere, the opening act.

And then there they were, the band he had travelled across Europe to see, right there on stage, alive and in the flesh. Fabrizio smiled, and felt alive. It might have been a bad decision, but this was worth everything. The problematic hitchhiking, the language barrier, the bus journey, those lonely days in Berlin, it was all worth this.

Then suddenly, just after the first song had ended, Fabrizio noticed that someone had appeared next to him. His heart stopped, and he was sure he was imagining things. His mind was just playing another trick on him, but now so much crueller than making him believe he saw Ermal in a busy shopping street. So Fabrizio stared at the man beside him, waiting for the phantom to disappear, the music now washing over him unheard, unnoticed. What he didn’t expect was for the phantom to reach out, pull him into a hug, put his lips to Fabrizio’s ear and tell him he was sorry he was late. He didn’t expect that, because that’s not what figments of your imagination usually did. At least, it was not what figments of _his_ imagination usually did, especially not after the past few days he’d had.

So the only other option was that Ermal was really here. He was real, he had come, he had hugged Fabrizio, and told him he was sorry to be late. He was really here, with him. The music was too loud to ask about _why_ s and _how_ s and _tell me what you’re thinking about this, about me, about us_-s, so Fabrizio just beamed at Ermal, trying to put his thoughts into that smile, his feelings of hope and gratitude and careful expectation.

Then he focused again on the music, or tried to, but he found he had to divide his attention between the band on stage and the man beside him. He didn’t mind, though, it was easy, Ermal’s energy mixing with his own, both singing along to the songs, both enjoying the concert, the atmosphere. Both enjoying each other’s company.

Both enjoying their date. The thought came to Fabrizio hesitatingly, but it was true, wasn’t it? It was a date. He had definitely meant it as such, when he threw the ticket at Ermal those days ago at the bus station, and here Ermal was. Looking at him, smiling at him, hugging him, touching him.

Then, at the final song of the evening he felt Ermal’s chin on his shoulder, his hands on Fabrizio’s arms, fingers brushing his sides, his stomach, to keep himself steady, it was almost a hug. Smiling, Fabrizio half turned to face Ermal, who noticed and smiled back.

Fabrizio couldn’t believe it, here he was, at the concert of an old band he liked, who were playing an old song he liked, with this new man, who he also liked. And who, against all odds, seemed to like him back. So Fabrizio decided to be brave, to take one more chance in this whole series of bad decisions turning out wonderful. He carefully reached up, cupped Ermal’s face in his hands, looked into his eyes for a second, waiting, assessing, and then leaned in to kiss him.

And Ermal kissed him back, he really did. Ermal kissed him back immediately, without hesitating, as if this was exactly what he had been waiting for all night. It wasn’t perfect, the angle a bit awkward, the kiss a bit sloppy, but here Fabrizio was, kissing Ermal. Here he was, being kissed by Ermal. Fabrizio had to break it so much sooner than he wanted, but his smile was just too broad for it to function properly.

Fabrizio couldn’t believe it, here he was, at the concert of an old band he now absolutely loved, who were playing an old song he now absolutely loved, with this new man, who he liked, for now, but who knew what the future would bring?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~ The End ~
> 
> Like I said, short little story, and all was well in the end :)  
> I'd love to know what you thought of it!!


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